The wild Karnataka - Galibore

As a traveller, I often recommend and suggest destinations to people - some very touristy and some off the beaten track. Though Ive stayed in several hotels, resorts, homestays, very few of them stick in my head. I often prefer going to the same destination, but not always to the same property. However, its been a bit different with JLR or Jungle Lodges and Resorts.

In many ways, my association with wild life enthusiasts started from here and this, in many ways has transformed me from a simple adventure seeking tourist to a birder and wild life enthusiast with a focus on conservation. I am not an activist, but my perspective on wild life has changed. I travel now to enjoy the beauty of the forests, understand biodiversities, look for birds and butterflies and am happy to just breathe the fresh, unpolluted air.


My first brush with JLR was in Bheemeswari, more than a decade ago when I did a TV shoot on one of their properties, Bheemeswari a decade ago. I later visited many properties of theirs set in some of the most beautiful locations of wild Karnataka and went on to even doing a Naturalist Training Programme conducted by their Chief Naturalist, Karthikeyan .

Run by IFS officers under the government of Karnataka by IFS officers, JLR started with the famous Kabini lodge way back in the 70s when it was managed by one man - Papa or the late Colonel Wakefield before the givernment took it over. JLR just celebrated its 30th year and on this occasion, the CM released a coffee table book - Wild Vistas which had one of my contributions on Bandipur. A version of the story has been published here.Published by JLR , it was the initiative of Kunal Sharma, the resident editor of Kabini and it features some great pictures taken by some well known wildlife photographers.

Another magazine , Jungle Tales was also released by the Tourism Minister. Written by several travel writers and edited by a noted travel writer, Susheela Nair, yours truly had also contributed two stories for the magazine - one on my favourite property Galibore and another on Doddamakkali. Both are fishing camps set on the banks of the river Cauvery and is sought after by anglers world wide as its home to the famous game fish, Mahsheer. Here is my story on Galibore.


It is well past twilight when I enter the portals of Galibore Fishing Camp. The darkness has just set in and there is a nip in the air. Sitting outside my tent and sipping a hot cup of tea, I can hear the Cauvery gushing down the rocks, lashing at them as she flows down the hill. The moon shines through the silhouettes of the trees. A row of lanterns light up the camp, as I see the outlines of the other tents. An owl hoots in the distance. And all this while, I happen to be the only one in the camp savouring the wild experience for the other guests are away at their favourite sport � angling

Galibore on the banks of the river Cauvery is completely off the tourist track. A detour from Bheemeshwari, it is located further downstream on the river, closer to Sangama. The camp is quiet, but the action is happening elsewhere on the river, for the angling season has just begun. Starting December, domestic and international anglers make a beeline here to match their wits against the most powerful game fish, Mahseer . And it is not just in Galibore. The entire stretch of Cauvery for about 40 kms is home to Billimeen as its locally called and come October, the camps here are flocked by anglers who practice responsible angling or the concept of catch and release .

The rain descends as a light thunderstorm drench the camp. I chat up with the manager and the anglers soon join in . There is a group from Hyderabad and another from Bangalore and stories fill the air as they exchange their adventures of the day. � I caught a 20 pounder ,� says one as congratulations are in order. Another says he caught three fish, but of a smaller size. While others lament that all that they got was a nibble or two at their lines. I join in the conversation and am filled in with more fishing tales.

The Mahseer , weighing more than 100 lbs is nicknamed as the tiger among fresh water fish as it gives a fight before it surrenders. Sometimes the anglers are at the receiving end. � Mind you, it is very strong , it tugged at my line today and there, my line was broken, � says Mr Reddy who has been coming here regularly with his friends and family for more than a decade. �This camp is remote and wild and I would like it to stay this way and the gillis here are very knowledgeable,� he adds .
The rain continues to pour as Kumar, a former manager at Galibore tells me that an international angler had almost come close to beating the Guiness Records by landing a 118 pounder at the camp more than seven years ago. The World record he says then was 120 lbs. Another Indian angler had landed 104 lbs.

The trick he says is to make the fish tired by playing with it.� Sometimes you think you have caught it, but the fish drags the line downstream and then you start chasing it in a coracle and then the tug of war starts between you and the fish� he narrates, adding that this is the thrill behind angling , although several times, it may just be a wait and watch game.

The owl hoots again . The bon fire is lit as animated conversations light up the air. �We have seen elephants crossing the river while fishing here , � says Mr. Reddy. Gillies narrate stories of being attacked by tuskers, sometimes even for ragi, which is used as bait for the Mahseer. As the voices get louder Kumar interrupts saying, � Ever seen a pack of wild pigs attack a leopard ? � He narrates an experience where the leopard with a piglet climbed a tree pursued by a pack of wild pigs . �It lost its balance, dropped the piglet and disappeared into the forest , � he adds. Besides wild pigs, jackals, sambhars are known to have wandered around the campus as well.

The breeze soon lulls me to sleep. I bid goodnight to the anglers, and attempt to sleep, but the denizens of the forest have other plans. Woken up by a medley of sounds, I venture out in the wee hours of the morning and see a herd of spotted deer catch the light of my torch barely a few feet away from my tent. They leap into the dark forest as I decide to stroll for a while .

Morning dawns, and with it the day breaks into a riot of colours. I look up to see tall trees stretch themselves and create such a canopy that I can hardly see the sky. The grizzled giant squirrel leaps from the branches, the birds call out to each other and the camp comes to life. The coracles are straddled onto the vehicles, the rods are ready and the baits are packed . Besides the ragi, the fish are lured with live bait as well in the form of crab or chiruva or small fish. The anglers meanwhile are planning their locations for the day. The Hyra or the pool upstream, the camp pool and the crocodile pool are the chosen destinations for their tryst with the Mahseer.
I wish them luck and try my hand at fishing at the camp pool.

The Cauvery is at her best, blue and beautiful. Using ragi as the bait, I lower the rod in the water, learn a few techniques and wait. A couple of tugs, but my luck fails me. However, my attention is soon diverted by an otter on the other bank. The monkeys jump around the trees as I see something in turquoise blue hiding behind the leaves . I leave the rod to the gillie and pick up my binoculars and the amateur birder in me comes to the fore. There flitting in the leaves was a verditer flycatcher. Another pair of birds fly close to my tent. Blue and orange, they are my favourite tickell�s blue flycatcher . I catch a bit of a long white tail hanging from a branch there is the paradise fly catcher. My luck seems to have turned around, having spotted the three species of the flycatcher.

Soon, the winged species grab my attention. I spot the flame backed woodpecker, the blue faced malkova , the white bellied drongo, the common kingfisher among others. A shikra turns its face away from me while the jungle fowl calls out. The raptors, the water birds come out into the open as the sun warms them. A lone coracle lies on the white sands. I lean against it and lose myself in its flow gazing into the open, lost in a different world of fins and feathers..

FACT FILE
Address : Galibore Fishing and Nature Camp, Uyamvalli Post, Sangam, Kanakpura Taluk, Bangalore district Rural
Tel: 08231694305
Getting there: Galibore is 100 kms from Bangalore. Travel down the Kanalpura road towards Kanakpura town and take a deviation to Sangama- the confluence of the rivers, Arkavathy and Cauvery. Galibore is further 10 kms from the Sangama .Even though it�s a mud road, its one of the best stretches for birding.

Best season: The months between November to February will be the bst time to visit as it is also ideal for birding and angling. Angling starts here at the end of December and eends by February .
What to do and see: Trekking, birding, fishing, angling, water rafting and coracle rides

The Misty Nilgiris

We were in Masinagudi a few weekends ago, a town located at the foothills of the Nilgiris. The mountains were giving us company as we drove around and giving the mountains company was a thin veil of mist..

To see more skies around the world, visit Skywatch Friday

Mangalore - The Inside Story

It is a very tragic day for all of us connected to Mangalore today. Ive been to this city many times by road, rail and air and love the peace and quiet there. We have often used Mangalore as a transit point, as we drive down to Sringeri or Udupi or go towards Gokarna and Karwar. In fact we had planned on visiting the town again before the monsoons and spend some time travelling around the Karavalli coastline. I just remembered my last story on Mangalore - which was my column - The Inside Story that was published in The Hindu - Its probably a story that I would have blogged here before , but Ive been thinking so much about my last trip that I decided to post it today .


The road from the airport was beautiful. We crossed bridges built across the backwaters , passed a few hamlets with small tiled houses and gazed upon lush fields filled with water. We were driving from Kudla , which is the Tulu name for Mangalore meaning junction. Located in the confluence of the Netravati and Gurupura rivers , this is a city with myriad names, communities and dialects. Called Maikala by the Bearys, Kodial by Konkanis, Menguluru by Kannadigas, the city has been in the map of several global historians and explorers .

It is said that the Arabic traveller Ibn Battutua wrote about Manjarur while Greek historian Ptolemy referred to it as Maganoor . However the town called Menguluru today owes its name to a deity Mangala Devi whose temple attracts pilgrims all over . There are many stories about this Goddess who lent her name to the port city, Mangalapura , but this is the most elaborate story we heard there, a lore that has travelled down the ages.

A demoness, Vikashini wanted to avenge the death of her father, Hiranyaksha by Lord Vishnu. So she prayed to Lord Brahma who granted her a boon that she will bear a son of Lord Shiva who will be invincible. Her son, Andhakasura threatened Lord Vishnu who approached the Goddess to kill the demon. It is said that the Goddess in the form of Rakteshwari jumped into the ocean and killed him.

A yuga passed and Parashurama was looking for a piece of land to continue his penance . He approached Varuna, the Lord of the Seas who refused. A provoked Parashurama flung his axe and carved a portion of the land from the sea . The claimed coastal region, known as Parashurama Kshetra is today parts of coastal Karnataka ,Maharashtra and Kerala .

The story goes that Parushrama continued his penance at the place where the Goddess killed the demon and a temple was built here .As several years passed by , Tulu Nadu was ruled by a king called Bangaraja .It is said that the Goddess appeared in his dream and showed him a shrine buried under a mound . The king rebuilt a temple there and it was called Mangala Devi. Later on , Kundavarma of the Alupa Dynasty renovated the temple under the guidance of two sages Matsyendranath and Goraknath who had come from Nepal . As we left the temple, we realized that this is not just a story, but the identity of Mangalore.

The sunset at Pangong Tso

I cant get over Ladakh. Even though its almost nine months since I went there, the mind still lingers there. These are the evening colors at Pangong Tso, my favourite lake in Ladakh. We pitched our tents here and camped here overnight and it was one of the most amazing experiences ever. The waters would have changed colours a million times before the sun cast its hues on it..Ive almost an entire album of Pangong Tso..you can view some of the pictures here

To see more brilliant skies, click here

Inside Story - Cha TungTung Karbo

We are driving through the mountains in Ladakh, listening to local music and our driver Dorjee turns out to be a die hard romantic. As the landscape changes, Dorjee gets a bit emotional talking about his family in Zanskar and the baby he is expecting in a few months. And then he goes on an impromptu karoke session and sings out aloud . I ask him to translate the lyrics and he complies with a grin.

The chortens and the mani wheels whizz past us . The music suddenly changes and Dorjee is a bit silent. I tease him and he interrupts me in Hindi, � This is not a romantic song madam, its a poem by Tsangyang Gyatso, our 6th Dalai Lama.� Dorjee does not elaborate further as we drive towards the lake Panggong Tso .

We spot a bit of green as we near the wetlands. And then something moves . The birder in me comes alive as I gesture to Dorjee to stop. � Cha Tungtung karbo, madam..never seen them near Panggong before, � he says as I move closer to take a picture of the black necked cranes .The national bird of Kashmir is a large whitish grey bird and has a black head, red crown patch , black upper neck and legs and a white patch near the eye. Another car stops by and we spend some silent moments clicking away.

Then Dorjee breaks the silence. �Cha means bird and tung tung karbo is long legged and white. That song madam, � he says referring to the earlier melody �is a poem on the white crane . It talks about the rebirth of the Dalai Lama who was believed to have been murdered .�Cranes do have a spiritual significance in Buddhism as they symbolize marital longetivity. In fact I read later they have their own monastery and festival in Bhutan where they return every year.

Back home, I spoke to Gopi Sundar from the international crane foundation . I learnt that these Tibetan cranes visit Ladakh probably from the river valleys of Tibet for breeding between June and September. �When the snow melts, you will find these birds coming in pairs, marking their territories and dancing- a part of their hormonal activity. You would probably find 30 nests here, � he says adding the remaining 60-70 are non breeders. The chicks later fly with their parents who are fiercely protective, guarding them from feral dogs. �Real estate is a serious issue here, � says Gopi referring to the loss of habitat for these cranes as wetlands become lesser and tourism increases as well. Its tough life to be a crane now , � he laughs. Listening to him, I go back to the walks around the lakes where Dorjee treated us to the prophetic song and dedicated it to his family

White crane, lovely bird,
Lend me your wings!
I'm not going far and away,
I'll return through the land of Litang.

Peacocks from the east of India,
Parrots from the lower Kongpo area!
Though (their) birthplaces are different,
(Their) meeting-place is Lhasa, the land of Dharma wheels.

The willow lost its heart to the bird,
The bird lost its heart to the willow!
If affection concords in harmony,
The hawk cannot overpower (them).

This is one of the stories published in my column, Inside Story in the Metro Plus. I thank Karthikeyan, chief naturalist of JLR who put me in touch with his friend Gopi Sundar , an authority on cranes. As a birder, I was keen on spotting this bird which is believed to be found only here in Ladakh besides a few in Arunachal Pradesh. You can otherwise spot them in Bhutan and Tibet among other places. I was lucky to see a couple enroute to Panggong Tso at a much closer distance than the ones I saw in Tso Kar.

Back from the jungles

I was lost somewhere in the dense forests of interior Masinagudi during the weekend ; not amidst the row of touristy resorts, but somewhere in the interior where forests and wilderness merge in a place aptly titled Wilds.I will blog about this sometime when I have a little more mind-space , but for now, a quick update to say I am back in rain swept Bangalore

Inside Story - Shey

Standing amidst the countless chortens or stupas that are scattered around Shey, I heard a foreign tourist narrate a story to her reluctant daughter, who was refusing to climb up the steps leading to the ruined palace of the Ladakhi kings.

And that�s where I heard about the Epic of king Gesar or Kesar as Ladakhis refer to the legendary Tibetan hero sent by the Gods to defeat demons. The mythical gLing ruled by Kesar could possibly be Shey, the capital of the ancient Ladakh kingdom. Even today there are a few artistes around Ladakh and Tibet who can sing their own versions of the 1000 year old ballad.

Located about 14 kms from Leh, Shey ,situated at a height of 11000 feet is now a small village on the banks of the Indus. Tourists flock by here to see the ancient fortifications, palace and the monastery that houses an imposing idol of Sakyamuni, the form of Buddha worshipped by the Sakya clan of saints.

Glittering in copper and gilded gold, this is one of the largest statues in Ladakh built by the king Senggee Namgyal. The lama here tells us that four craftsmen were specially brought from Nepal by Gyal Katun,the king�s mother to create this deity here . �As they had married locally, they were not allowed entry into Nepal, and so even today, their descendants live in a small village called Chiling ,� he says.

The sun is merciless and I collect my breath after having climbed the hillock where the monastery is housed. A row of prayer wheels, mani walls and chortens fill the landscape as I look down .Several dynasties have ruled Shey besides the mythical hero Kesar and his descendants. However historically, Ladakh came under Tibetan rule around the 10th century when Nyima Gon , established his empire here and built probably a few chortens in Shey.

It is ironic, said the lama I was chatting with ,that Tibet itself was in a turmoil after Nyima Gon�s grandfather, king Lang Darma was murdered by a seer for apparently persecuting Buddhists .

The flags flutter in the breeze while the shutterbugs are busy taking pictures of the valley below. I am told the monastery here was built much later by the Namgyal rulers. The lama tells me that somewhere in the middle of 16th century, Ladakh was a divided kingdom ruled from both Shey and Basgo. The king from Basgo , Bhagan deposed the Shey ruler and titled himself Namgyal or Victorious. It was during this dynasty�s reign that power slowly shifted from Shey to Leh, with a palace being built in Leh. And like any erstwhile capital, town, Shey slowly lost its strategic significance .

�When the Nangyals finally lost power to the Kashmir kings and to Mughals, Shey was abandoned .� There was a ring of finality in his tone .I see the tourists rotating the prayer wheel as they climb up. Shey is now just another must see in their sightseeing list .

Published in my column, Inside Story in the Metro Plus, The Hindu

India through my eyes - A fishy story

A poster in Mahabalipuram ..they know how to bring on the fishy tales

Creatures of Ladakh - The Kiangs

The kiangs or the Tibetan wild ass abound in Ladakh. We saw quite a few of them near Tso Kar kicking up the dust or grazing around. One particular incident touched us. The kiangs were in a circle near the base of the mountain and I was told by my driver they were mourning the death of one of them.We didnt take the picture of this private moment , but we took quite a few of them as they stared at us before gallopping away

The fleet footed kiangs are seen in herds and there are several in a herd - which can even go up to 300. I learnt that they are very good swimmers and enjoy lakes around grasslands .To read more about the Kiang, click here

Thanks Ugich Konitari ...

I've received a lot of comments and appreciation for my posts. Most of you have shared experiences, asked queries, given me awards and these motivate me to keep posting. However, I was quite touched when one blogger,Ugich Konitari aka Suranga Date posted this poem as a comment on my previous post .UK said that the first picture inspired her . I am no photograher , nor do I call myself one. My photographs are just accessories to my writing. But coming from UK, who is a prolific blogger , who writes on a variety of subjects, whose posts are highly perceptive and sensitive with her trademark sense of humour - it is a great inspiration. Her blogs ,Strewn Ashes and Gappa are a must read . She introduces herself as " an old lady in the seventh decade of her life " ,but her writing is so fresh and youthful, that you can hardly believe that she is several decades older than me. Here is the poem that she posted .

Valleys and peaks
in life,
Thick with hopes,
worries and questions,
Green foliage
carpeting
the hidden
cracks and roads
in the mountain.

But life goes on,
the wind stops
for no one,
as you look up
at the horizon,
to see
your future life
again with
lots of ups and downs,
but certainly lighter
and lighter
as the clouds
float in
to mist your eyes....